Keith Sullivan is the man behind the fighters and steeped in boxing

 

KEITH SULLIVAN was getting ready to enter the ring at the SSE (Odyssey) Arena in Belfast, to congratulate Paddy Donovan, for not only defeating Lewis Crocker in their all-Ireland showdown, but doing so convincingly.

It had been a fight that Sullivan, who co-manages Donovan along with Andy Lee, had worked tirelessly on making for some time. The stakes were high. It was not only for territorial bragging rights, but more importantly the winner would become the IBF’s mandatory challenger in the welterweight division.

However, with Crocker essentially finished, Donovan launched one last right hand after the bell had rung ending the eighth round. The punch leveled Crocker, who was far behind on points as it was. It is highly debatable whether Crocker would have even been allowed to come out for the following round if Donovan had not registered the final hit, such was the punishment that he had endured.

Paddy’s coming-out party, the fight that would introduce him to the world as a star in the making, took a bum turn as the referee, Marcus McDonnell, disqualified him. With that, Donovan lost not only the opportunity to box for the title in his next fight, but his unbeaten record as well.

Whether it was his fault, that of the referee, or extenuating circumstances, this much is obvious: Paddy Donovan had defeat snatched from the jaws of victory. And no one knew it more than the fighter himself.

After initially celebrating when he thought the fight was stopped in his favor, Donovan was beside himself when the realisation hit home that it was he and not Crocker who had been terminated by the referee.

A distraught Donovan threw himself to the canvas in disbelief. He then desperately pleaded with promoter Eddie Hearn to help him right what he felt was wrong, but Hearn who promotes both men was reluctant to come to Donovan’s defence.

Lee, who also serves as the lead trainer, tried to put a positive spin on things, consoling Donovan by telling him how great he looked and that they should focus on that, not the result itself. Lee knew that as always Sullivan would take charge of what needed to be done in the aftermath.

By now, Sullivan had entered the ring, looking shell-shocked, but in reality, he was absorbed in deep thought, playing out all the different scenarios in his head, not so much about what just happened, but what Team Donovan would do about it.

Sullivan had been down this road before in his 27 years as a litigation attorney in New York City.  “I always compare a trial and a courtroom presentation to a fight,” he says. “You have to win the overall case even though you’re going to lose some rounds along the way.”

Sullivan was born, raised, and has always lived in the boroughs of Brooklyn and Queens in New York City. He originally thought he might become a High School History Teacher, but as things worked out Sullivan was able to open his own law practice (Sullivan and Galleshaw) with his childhood friend, James Galleshaw, in which they have been together for 19 years now. He also serves as a New York City commissioner on the Board of Elections.

“I got into boxing as everyone does initially, as a fan,” says Sullivan. “I used to work out in the famous Gleason’s Gym in Brooklyn. I met a man there who was very special, who unfortunately we lost during Covid, trainer Bob Jackson. I think of him often and the advice he gave me over the years about life.

”After learning that I was an attorney, Bruce Silverglade, the owner of the gym, asked me if I would review a contract for a fighter who was offered a management deal. I looked at the contract for the kid and the promoter was taking 40%.

“Needless to say I renegotiated for the kid on much more favorable terms. I made no money but I was compensated by seeing him go on and have a decent professional career and put some money in his pocket.

”That sort of became the norm. Bob or Bruce would ask me to help fighters pro-bono by looking over management, promotional and sponsorship deals. To be honest, I hate contracts. It’s boring, slow and methodical work but I’m actually very good at it.

“I took on the representation of Joey Gamache, a former world champion who was brutally knocked out by Arturo Gatti in a match that never should have taken place. The day before the bout at Madison Square Garden, a fraudulent weigh-in took place. Gatti was well over the weight limit, stepped off the scale, and immediately rehydrated despite the objections from the Gamache camp.

“The New York Commission refused to reweigh Gatti even though the balance beam scale they used at the time never balanced steady in the middle as required. It bounced up and down as Gatti stepped on and off.

“On fight night the unofficial weigh-in done by HBO showed Gatti had put on an astronomical amount of weight, if you believe he actually made the weight on the scale the day prior. We sued and won and proved that the weigh-in violated the New York rules and regulations. They now use an electric scale that must be properly tested and calibrated on a frequent basis and a fighter doesn’t get off the scales until both camps approve of the weight reached.”

By now, Sullivan had entered the ring, looking shell-shocked, but in reality, he was absorbed in deep thought, playing out all the different scenarios in his head, not so much about what just happened, but what Team Donovan would do about it.

Sullivan had been down this road before in his 27 years as a litigation attorney in New York City.  “I always compare a trial and a courtroom presentation to a fight,” he says. “You have to win the overall case even though you’re going to lose some rounds along the way.”

Sullivan was born, raised, and has always lived in the boroughs of Brooklyn and Queens in New York City. He originally thought he might become a High School History Teacher, but as things worked out Sullivan was able to open his own law practice (Sullivan and Galleshaw) with his childhood friend, James Galleshaw, in which they have been together for 19 years now. He also serves as a New York City commissioner on the Board of Elections.

“I got into boxing as everyone does initially, as a fan,” says Sullivan. “I used to work out in the famous Gleason’s Gym in Brooklyn. I met a man there who was very special, who unfortunately we lost during Covid, trainer Bob Jackson. I think of him often and the advice he gave me over the years about life.

”After learning that I was an attorney, Bruce Silverglade, the owner of the gym, asked me if I would review a contract for a fighter who was offered a management deal. I looked at the contract for the kid and the promoter was taking 40%.

“Needless to say I renegotiated for the kid on much more favorable terms. I made no money but I was compensated by seeing him go on and have a decent professional career and put some money in his pocket.

”That sort of became the norm. Bob or Bruce would ask me to help fighters pro-bono by looking over management, promotional and sponsorship deals. To be honest, I hate contracts. It’s boring, slow and methodical work but I’m actually very good at it.

“I took on the representation of Joey Gamache, a former world champion who was brutally knocked out by Arturo Gatti in a match that never should have taken place. The day before the bout at Madison Square Garden, a fraudulent weigh-in took place. Gatti was well over the weight limit, stepped off the scale, and immediately rehydrated despite the objections from the Gamache camp.

“The New York Commission refused to reweigh Gatti even though the balance beam scale they used at the time never balanced steady in the middle as required. It bounced up and down as Gatti stepped on and off.

“On fight night the unofficial weigh-in done by HBO showed Gatti had put on an astronomical amount of weight, if you believe he actually made the weight on the scale the day prior. We sued and won and proved that the weigh-in violated the New York rules and regulations. They now use an electric scale that must be properly tested and calibrated on a frequent basis and a fighter doesn’t get off the scales until both camps approve of the weight reached.”

By now, Sullivan had entered the ring, looking shell-shocked, but in reality, he was absorbed in deep thought, playing out all the different scenarios in his head, not so much about what just happened, but what Team Donovan would do about it.

Sullivan had been down this road before in his 27 years as a litigation attorney in New York City.  “I always compare a trial and a courtroom presentation to a fight,” he says. “You have to win the overall case even though you’re going to lose some rounds along the way.”

Sullivan was born, raised, and has always lived in the boroughs of Brooklyn and Queens in New York City. He originally thought he might become a High School History Teacher, but as things worked out Sullivan was able to open his own law practice (Sullivan and Galleshaw) with his childhood friend, James Galleshaw, in which they have been together for 19 years now. He also serves as a New York City commissioner on the Board of Elections.

“I got into boxing as everyone does initially, as a fan,” says Sullivan. “I used to work out in the famous Gleason’s Gym in Brooklyn. I met a man there who was very special, who unfortunately we lost during Covid, trainer Bob Jackson. I think of him often and the advice he gave me over the years about life.

”After learning that I was an attorney, Bruce Silverglade, the owner of the gym, asked me if I would review a contract for a fighter who was offered a management deal. I looked at the contract for the kid and the promoter was taking 40%.

“Needless to say I renegotiated for the kid on much more favorable terms. I made no money but I was compensated by seeing him go on and have a decent professional career and put some money in his pocket.

”That sort of became the norm. Bob or Bruce would ask me to help fighters pro-bono by looking over management, promotional and sponsorship deals. To be honest, I hate contracts. It’s boring, slow and methodical work but I’m actually very good at it.